Under the table Shenanigans
by xMorbidLullabyx
Summary: Gabriel has been staying with Richard ever since he'd shown up, half-dead with a knife wound to the stomach in the actor's kitchen. One day, Richard decides to bring Gabriel along to a convention. But when Richard decides to jokingly imply sexual activities with his character, Gabriel decides to make the panel a bit more.. Exciting from beneath the table.


As you can tell, this is a Supernatural RPF fic, also. Meaning- Real People Fiction.

For a tumblr prompt-  
"Write a selfcest/character/actor fic of your favorite character!"

I decided to do Richard/Gabriel!

* * *

It'd been exactly two months after Richard had found a wounded, delirious Gabriel slumped over on his kitchen counter after returning home from Walmart. There is still debate who was more surprised at the sight of one another that day. All it had taken, however was a sputtered "Hey hot stuff, wanna gimme a hand?" and Richard swallowed the terror swelling in his chest (and, unfortunately, dropping his egg carton in the process) to give the hurting archangel a somebody to lean on.  
Literally.

Two months had gone by, and in those two months, the two of them had began getting along. Well, if you can count days of nagging at one another as 'getting along'.  
At the end of the day, however, they were both willing to slouch on the couch watching Friends re-runs together. And eventually, Richard had gathered enough courage to tell his fellow co-stars and buddies about the angel on his shoulder. Or his angel living on his couch. Either one would be correct in their own right.

Rob was the first to be told, and needless to say, Richard's scruffy best friend was more than happy, albeit a little worried, to hear that Richard had found himself- well, _himself. _The others had taken it in their own personal way. Misha found it rather entertaining, and Jared had taken it upon himself to play 20 questions with Gabriel.  
All in all, it couldn't have gone any better.

That is, until convention season came along.

Gabriel hadn't exactly enjoyed being left alone for weeks on end without so much as a phone call from the attractive bastard that he'd been staying with for a while. It was lonely there without somebody to watch TV with, or to tease and prod at when he was feeling particularly bored, and the archangel was _far_ from his former glory.  
So Gabriel would sit and wait.  
And wait.  
And _wait_ for Richard to come back home. Or even to call.

All of that waiting had paid off, however, when one night Richard had called the house phone, offering Gabriel the chance to come to a convention with him. Of course, Gabriel wouldn't exactly be able to make an appearance at this convention, but leaving the house was good enough for him.  
So with renewed vigor, he had agreed.

Richard had to go through town to get to the convention anyhow, so picking up an over-enthusiastic archangel wasn't _too_ much trouble.  
Keeping him entertained in a car?  
That's another story entirely.

"Are we there yet?"

The question was innocent enough, but Richard, however, didn't exactly find it all that useful.

"No. We weren't aren't there now, and just like we weren't there when you asked last time.  
Three minuets ago." Richard answered as patiently as humanely possible, but it drew an exasperated groan from the passenger seat.

"I hate this."

"I'm sorry for not being entertaining enough to fill your needs." The actor grumbled in return, fidgeting in his seat. After hours upon hours of driving, Richard was itching to get out of the car as much as his fellow passenger.

A minuet went by, then three, then four, then five. In all of those five minuets, Richard had to deal with Gabriel groaning and griping beside him, and had to turn the radio down to a respective volume at least several times after God's messenger himself decided to take it upon himself to blare some Katy Perry song about peacocks loud enough to blow out someone's eardrums. It became a little game after the first three volume shifts, and finally, after the seventh time Gabriel turned the volume up, Richard's hand shot out, turning the radio off.

"Could you, like- _Not_?" Richard's whiskey colored eyes darted to the side, narrowing down on a similar pair with a look of irritation.

"Rich, sweetheart, can't you see that I am _dying_ right now?!" Came the other's retort, followed by an over-exaggerated choking noise.

"Oh, don't be such a drama quee-"

"-King-"

"_Queen_. Don't be such a drama _queen_." The actor huffed in exasperation, turning his head to turn a rather unamused stare to the archangel. "You're acting like a child."

"I am a child."

"No, you're not. Act your age!"

At that, Gabriel did a rather accurate representation of dying, causing the corner of Richard's mouth to twitch, trying desperately to keep the smile at bay.

The _charade_ went on for longer than Richard expected; a whole ten minuets. By then, the convention center had finally come into view, drawing a relieved sigh that didn't escape the archangel's notice.  
He immediately perked up, back straight and eyes excited as he turned in his seat to face the human, the word's 'are we there?' dying on his lips as Richard gave a nod, already sensing the question.

This caused a cheerful yipping noises and anxious fidgeting from the passenger seat. It wasn't long until they both began seeing people in full 'cosplay' (Richard had explained to Gabriel) getup.

"Alright, so, we're gonna need a disguise for you, or something. Because the moment one of 'em spots you, they're gonna assume that you're me. Seeing _you_ and thinking it's _me_ is, surprisingly, the best case scenario. We don't want them to see you _with_ me. That'll cause a real commotion, and well.. Let's just try and keep from that." Richard mumbled as they neared the hotel, pausing to spare a glance beside him. The other 'man', however, was too busy staring in amused awe at the sight of the cosplayers.

"Look, Rich-  
That chick's dressed as Cas." Gabriel all but snickered, watching as they passed a girl in full Castiel-cosplay.

"Did you just hear what I said?-"

"Hm? Oh! Yeah! Disguise. Got 'cha. Got anything in the back?" Before Richard could open his mouth to reply, his companion had already scrambled into the backseat, rummaging through the various suit cases in the back.  
"Are those briefs? Huh. You strike me as a boxers kind of guy, not briefs."

"I only have one pair of briefs, and could you at least put my clothes back where you found them after you're done rummaging for a disguise that really _isn't_ going to be in there?" With a roll of his shoulders, Richard's eyes flickered to the rear view mirror, trying (and failing) to keep his eyes from straying to Gabriel's backside as he bent over the seat to search for a disguise.  
He gave a quick shake of his head before turning his eyes back to the road, pulling into the indoor parking lot.

By the time they had found a suitable parking spot near the entrance to the hotel from the parking lot, Gabriel had been dressed up in a bunch of Richard's clothing, hair tucked into a black hat (par one rebellious golden lock) with a rather large pair of- were those woman's?- sunglasses.

".. Where did you get those?"

"'Dunno. Found 'em under the seat."

"Well alright, then."

Stepping out of the car was easier said than done. Hours of driving had caused both of their legs to go stiff and tensed, and it took a little stretching (and jumping around, as Gabriel so helpfully suggested) until they had started pulling suit cases from the back.

Making it to their hotel room without being noticed by a single fan had been pure luck, and luck only. Richard wouldn't have a clue what he would do if they had been spotted together. The disguise wouldn't be able to hide the fact that they both looked identical.  
Pretending that Gabriel was his long lost twin would probably do the trick, but all it took was a skilled superfan to get on a computer to find out that Richard didn't really have a twin. What excuse could he use then?

Either way, all of that was forgotten by the time Gabriel decided to make a dramatic exit from the bathroom, a towel tied around his waist with a rather convincing look of mortification.

"I say, Richard- I am most displeased by the water pressure!" He muttered in a mock posh accent, a grin tugging at both of their lips.

"Shut up." There was no real heat behind his words as the both of them slumped onto the, unfortunately, single bed in the room. "Oh. Yeah. We're sharing the bed tonight."

Gabriel's lewd eyebrow waggling confirmed that he was, in fact, okay with that arrangement.

"Why are you still naked?"

"I was hoping you'd be enticed by my wet, naked body so that we can have some sexy time before you had to go onto stage." Another eyebrow waggle and Richard was snorting, pushing at the other's shoulder with a grin.

"Speaking of going on stage, what are _you_ gonna do during all of that time?" The question was innocent enough, but there was an immediate feeling of regret at the mischievous smirk that etched onto Gabriel's lips.

"What are you-  
Why are you smirking?  
Stop that.  
No.  
I don't know what it is that you are thinking about doing, but no."

'No' in Gabriel language apparently meant 'yes', because it wasn't long before the duo had filed their way into the ballroom where Richard, Misha, Matt, Rob, and Mark would be doing their panel. Jared and Jensen have a panel of their own in a few hours, then Richard, Rob and Matt had one of their own as well a few hours later.

"This is a terrible idea."

"This is a wonderful idea."

Together, the duo began to sling a white table cloth over the elongated table, blocking the fan's view of underneath. The panel didn't start for another ten minuets, and that time was spent getting the floor beneath the table comfy enough for Gabriel to sit on for a full two hours. Misha had decided to make an entrance right as Gabriel had scurried beneath the table, earning a rather amused grin from the dark haired man.  
The three of them (Gabriel remained beneath the table, speaking in a low voice) idly chattered away as the fans began filling the empty folding chairs, and soon enough, the rest of the panel's members.

The panel had begun, and the five of them had gotten to work entertaining their fans.

One fan coaxed Richard into telling the train story, and by the time the panel was coming close to an end, the five of them had gotten into that happy, comfortable mood that comes along with hanging with friends in a panel surrounded by doting fans.

It wasn't until another fan, however, had decided to ask a question (it was an innocent enough question) that things started to get a little.. Weird.

"What would you do if you had to spend a week with your character?"

Everyone answered the question without hesitation. Misha and Matt said something that had gotten a chuckle from the fans, Mark's answer had a few murmured agreements, Rob's had too, gotten a few laughs.

When it was Richard's turn to answer, his panel members (including the audience, who's stares were less knowing) turned amused grins onto him.  
And just to get a rise out of it, Richard answered simply:

"You guys should already know the answer to that question. We wouldn't be able to keep our hands off of each other." That, of course, caused a plethora of screams and lewd whistles to fill the air. It got a rise from the guys seated beside him as well.

Someone else that was rather amused by the answer had been giving dirty snickers from beneath the table.

"Oh please. You haven't even tried to make a move on me yet." A hushed voice beneath the table added, drawing a few joking snickers of his own.

"You haven't given me a chance yet." It was meant to be a joke, but it came out far more serious than he had intended.

"You really wanna play this game right now, Rich? 'Cause I'll have you know-" Richard's chair made an inaudible screeching noise as the archangel tugged the man closer, shielding his lower body from view. "I haven't gotten laid in about two months, and you're wavin' a bone in my face. Literally." More snickers, far too close to Richard's crotch for his liking.

"Gabriel, I swear-"

"Calm down, sugar. No need to be so tense! I'll take good care of ya, I swear." Gabriel replied in a sultry growl as he began mouthing at zipper on Richard's jeans and _this really isn't a good idea._

But it wasn't as if he could just lean under the table and tell Gabriel to stop, and the light, fluttering brush of lips on the front of his jeans had caused a growing erection that would be quite hard to hide from the various young ladies in the crowd.

So the only option was to try and not look suspicious, and hope that Gabriel would take mercy and leave him be until _after_ the panel had ended.

But Gabriel wasn't exactly a merciful angel.

The mouthing had stopped, replaced instead with a hand that begun skillfully palming Richard until his face began to flush at his jeans became too tight for comfort.

Luckily, if anybody had noticed the red tinting the Southerner's cheeks, they didn't comment on it.

A low growl rumbled in Richard's throat as he snaked a hand beneath the table, catching the other's wrist and squeezing as if to say 'get on with it'.

And who was Gabriel to deny such an order?

"Bossy." The retort was childish and petulant, but Richard's zipper had been undone in a matter of seconds, and soon enough the denim had been pulled down to his ankles.

Gabriel wiggled his way between the actor's legs, giving a low 'seriously, briefs?' before he began nipping at the soft skin on the other's thighs, suckling dark red marks onto pale skin.

Richard's chuckle quickly became a groan that he quickly covered with a cough, keeping his mouth as far away from the mic as possible without drawing too much attention.

Thankfully, Mark had began telling a rather long story that would keep the crowd entertained for a good five, ten minuets. Enough time for Richard to compose himself before having to speak again.

"Gabriel, please-" He murmured with another groan, the words were quiet, just loud enough for his friend beneath the table to hear.

"You can't rush perfection."

"If you don't think that I won't kick you in the face right now, you are so wrong-"

"Rich, baby! Stop being so tense! Geez, you've been acting like a nagging housewife ever since I got in the car today."

The sarcastic retort that Richard had so been ready to give ended up becoming a choked noise as Gabriel peeled away his briefs, lunging forward to swallow down his cock in one, fluid motion.

One hand came up to cover his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as he attempted to calm his now-quickening breaths.  
Richard could feel the little shit smirking around his shaft, and as payback, he bucked his hips just a bit, enough to shove himself down the archangel's throat. A smirk of his own stretched across his face as Gabriel gave an indignant noise, hands spaying across the human's thighs to keep the action from happening again.

Ten seconds passed by until Gabriel began getting to work, his head bobbing excruciatingly slow as his tongue worked to slide fluidly across the heated flesh earnestly.

By that time, Richard was squirming in his seat, hand pressed tightly across his mouth as he fought the urge to thrust up into Gabriel's hot, wet mouth. The task proved easier said than done, and as the archangel's mouth began working around his length with quick, eager sucks, Richard slowly began losing it.  
His free hand blindly groped under the table until it came in contact with soft, familiar locks of hair. Immediately, his fingers began curling into the strands, tugging on them tightly until it drew a pleased whine from the angel beneath the table.

While all of this is going on, Misha began staring curiously at the golden haired man sitting a few chairs away. The blue eyed actor continued to watch the scene unfolding, head tilting in the slightest as Richard sucked his bottom lip between his teeth.  
It wasn't until he saw the faint 'up and down' motion of Richard's arms beneath the table that he suddenly remembered that Gabriel was beneath the table.  
After that, it was rather easy to figure out what was going on.  
One wicked smirk later, and Misha had a plan.

"Damn it-" The word was strained and raspy as Gabriel pulled off his cock to give a little kitten lick at his flushed head, his tongue taking the drop of precum that's gathered there with it before swallowing Richard down once more.  
The little pleasured groans and grunts Richard was giving had Gabriel leaking in his own jeans. So while he continued to enthusiastically suck the other off, he slipped his own hand unbutton his jeans and unzip his pants just enough to pull his own dick free.  
With a shaky sigh, Gabriel began to slowly jerk himself, hand sliding over heated flesh with practiced flicks of the wrist.  
He paused for a moment, stopping to lavish the other's hard cock with his tongue with vigor before licking at his own palm. It wasn't long after before Gabriel was swallowing Richard down once more, his now-wet hand sliding across his own dick with renewed vigor.

Richard was a mess. Usually tidy locks of gold were in a disarray, clinging to his flushed face as he fought to stave off the various noises Gabriel was more than likely trying to get him to make. With every second, every lick, every touch, Richard was slowly losing his composure. It took the sheer fear of getting caught to fight off the urge to thrust into the archangel's willing mouth. With every harsh swallow, every little noise of pleasure, Richard was losing it. How he was going to try and hide his upcoming orgasm, he had no idea. But hopefully the world will take pity on them both and grant them a quiet orgasm.  
Of course, that idea had flown out of the window when a rather sensitive spot was attacked, resulting in a loud 'yip!' to tear it's way through his dry throat.

Nobody else seemed to notice, besides Misha, of course.

"..-And that is why it's not okay to get drunk at a sorority house at four in the morning." Mark finished off with a look of pure exasperation, the crowd before them shouting with laughter.  
"Wow Mark, that's uh- That's really something. What do you think, Richard? Doesn't that sound like it _sucks_? Ya know, really _**blows**_?"  
The suggestion was lost on most of the people in the room, besides Richard, who's head snapped up with a look of horror and surprised plastered onto his features.

When he opened his mouth to speak, nothing came out. Despite having heard what Misha said, Gabriel only decided to move quicker, knowing that they'd both be toppling off of that metaphorical edge soon enough.

"Richard, man- Are you okay?" Rob muttered, hand over his mic with an apprehensive look on his face.

"Yeah, I-" Richard paused to clear his throat. "I'm good. I just.. Does it feel a little hot in here?" He whistled lowly, the hand not tangled tightly in Gabriel's hair used to fan himself. "To uh, answer Misha's question I- _shit _I think that.. That totally sucks. Like, a lot I can't even- _dearfatherinHeaven_- begin to imagine, the level of suckiness.." Richard finished his train-wreck of an answer with force, topped off with a choked groan.

The audience apparently found his retort to be quite comical, cackling along happily that was just loud enough to hide Richard's rather pornographic moan from any listening ears.

The rest of the panel members stared at their friend with various looks of worry and amusement.

"Al.. Alright. Well, thanks for that wonderful.. Answer?" Matt replied, eyeing the other with an odd mix of enjoyment and unnerve.

"Gabriel- You need to er- Slow down for a bit because I'm pretty sure Misha's onto us and- _dammit_- I don't wanna get caught and I'm.. So close-" Richard muttered with, sounding wrecked to even his own ears. The raspy sound of his southern drawl gave Gabriel a delightful shudder, both hands working quickly to finish their under-the-table shenanigans as quickly as possible.

Richard gave a quick glance to a nearby clock, a small feeling of relief washing over him as the panel was coming to an end. With every ounce of willpower he had, the southerner held back his quickly approaching orgasm, just until the closing announ-  
"Looks like it's time to say goodbye! Don't forget, photo ops tomorrow, don't forget- Thanks!" Rob announced a bit too cheerfully into the microphone, the fans surrounding them bursting into fits of cheers.  
Richard took this moment to bow his head down towards the table, shoving the back of his arm into his mouth as the other went to grab a tight hold on Gabriel's locks.  
All it took was one more harsh suck, and Richard toppled over the edge, cumming harsh spurts down the archangel's throat with a muffled sob, Gabriel soon following.

Tired, flustered, and sated, Richard continued pressed his sweat-slicked forehead onto the cold surface, chest rising and falling in labored heaves as Gabriel did well to make them both seem presentable.

"When's the next panel?" Gabriel murmured, peeking out from the table cloth with a sultry smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

"Tomorrow. 12am sharp." Came Richard's reply, not a hint of hesitation in the grin of his own.

"Good." The archangel's golden eyes gleamed with wickedness, Richard's own eyes burning with sinful wanton.

"Good."

**_The_** _**End...**_

"Gabriel- When the Hell did you get under there?-" 

* * *

Disclaimer- I do _not_ own Supernatural or their characters!

I don't own Richard either, as much as I'd like to-


End file.
